15. He said, “I’m sorry I didn’t see you.”
15
He said, “I’m sorry I didn’t see you.”
Zach
El Diablo Cantina was a dead zone.
The dodgy phone reception was no surprise—that hipster hellhole was literally buried underground—but I’d still been tempted to hurl my phone when Eden’s call had dropped out.
I barrelled down the stairs two at a time, sidestepping the maze of people blocking my way, and landed with an ungraceful thud at the bottom. I screwed my eyes shut. I had to. The Cantina was an introvert’s worst nightmare. I couldn’t hear my heart pounding in my chest over the wailing music bombarding me from every direction, and it was impossible to breathe when the air was suffocated by alcohol, old wood, and too many nameless faces.
What was I even doing here? Eden had always been out of my league. A celebrity. She deserved the kind of man who commanded respect—not the bumbling nerd who snuck looks at her like a love-struck teenager.
She settled.
I glanced at the escape beckoning me at the top of the stairs, but my feet refused to budge. I wasn’t leaving.
I grabbed my phone out of my jacket pocket and hit redial.
Call failed.
I sighed.
Eden had called me, so there was reception…somewhere. I took a deep breath and made my way into the bowels of hell. Silhouettes crowded the bar, the dance floor, and intimate booths of button-tufted leather lining the walls. Everywhere was a hiding place.
As I weaved through the swarm, I spotted a familiar face. Yvette was impossible to miss. Her gold dress twinkled under the chandeliers, and her head was thrown back, laughing, utterly oblivious to the meathead rugby player perving at her tits.
I stopped. That bastard. My fist clenched.
I glared a dark promise at the rugby player across the bar. Once I’d found Eden, I’d take care of him, too. He wasn’t going to disrespect Eden. It hadn’t been on my bingo card to get beaten up by a famous rugby player after failing abysmally to defend my woman’s honour, but at least Dad would be proud. I’d always feared he thought I was too soft and didn’t stick up for myself enough. He’d said so in the hospital two years ago, hadn’t he?
My lips quirked up when I rounded the corner and saw the sign slapped on the door that said ‘Bonitas.’
I didn’t think twice before barging inside.
The wailing music dulled to a low thump when the door swung closed. My heart stuttered. Eden’s solitary figure hunched over a basin, her phone clutched in a death grip in one hand and a wad of paper towels stuffed in the other. The tip of her nose was red, and rivulets still streaked her cheeks.
“Denny Dee.” I was surprised I got the words out without a stutter. Seeing her cry was a punch in the chest.
She bolted upright, spinning on her black heels to face me head-on. “What are you doing here?”
“Did you really think I wouldn’t run straight here?”
Of course she would. I’d let her down a hundred times before. Slowly, tentatively, like she was a skittish kitten I didn’t want to spook, I crept forward. Eden took a step back. The paper towels fluttered from her hand as she leant her hip into the basin to steady herself, her chest heaving and her eyes never leaving mine.
I took another step.
“I thought you hung up,” she said.
I took another careful step. “Never.”
An ache gnawed in my chest, plunging me forward, begging me to get close enough to run my fingers through the little curls that had slipped loose from her bun. I wanted to touch the blotched skin on her cheek and whisper everything was going to be okay, but I forced my hand to stay by my side. Eden’s lips quivered. She wrung her hands, and her eyes darted frantically away from mine—to the door behind me, around the room, everywhere but me.
She was going to run.
“I promise I won’t hurt you,” I said.
“You already did.”
My gut clenched. I had. Too many times.
The woman standing in the bathroom with tear-stained cheeks wasn’t the brave force against nature who’d battled me at every turn. I’d always guessed Eden protected herself behind walls of sparkle, but I’d never seen it. Not like this. No bluster, no anger, only raw and real emotion.
I shouldn’t have, but I bundled her in my arms. She didn’t hug me back. Her arms stayed stiff by her side, but her nose burrowed into my chest, and her shoulders started to quake with silent sobs, a wet patch blooming around my collar.
“I want to hate you so much,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, Eden. I’ll never forgive myself for not showing you how important you are to me.”
“You never treated me like I was important.”
“I’m seeing it. I am. I’ve been lying to myself for a long time, saying I was working so hard for you…and I was, but…”
“Your work has always been about you.”
“It is. Was . Tonight, at the stadium, when I snapped at you, I felt it”—I slapped my palm over my heart—“right here. My insecurities, my goals, just how much I’ve been putting them first. Dad’s been telling me for years to stop and notice the good things in my life. I didn’t, Eden. I didn’t see the best thing that ever happened to me until you walked out my door.”
“Just more words.”
“I’ll prove it to you,” I said. “Actions.”
Eden eased back. Her lips pressed in a fine line. “More gifts?”
“Whatever you need. Anything you want.”
Her chin lifted. “Beg me.” Her glare was defiant. “On your knees.”
My gaze bounced off the checkerboard tiles. “Eden?” I grimaced. Sparkling basins and the slightly offensive smell of too much air freshener, and I’d guarantee this place was cleaner than the men’s, but it was still a bathroom.
Eden scoffed at my hesitation. “So, not whatever I need?” She peered down the end of her nose at me, one brow lifting in a challenge.
I didn’t always say much, and when I did, it usually stuttered out of me, but I’d never begged a day in my life.
And yet…
My joints protested with a hot squeeze as I sank to my knees. When Eden’s slender fingers speared through my hair and yanked back my head, forcing me to look her in the eye, her smile was feral.
“How many times did you see me on my knees in front of you?” she asked.
So many. “You were beautiful.” She was.
“You liked it, Zach?”
Was there any point in lying to her? “I loved it.”
“You like being in control?”
“Yes.”
Eden’s head cocked. “Me too.” She scoffed a noise. “Too bad I can’t act like you and just take what I want.”
I reached out, my fingertips brushing the smooth skin of her ankle. “You can.”
Bone-aching want flared in my chest. The barometer of Eden’s mood was shifting—cool, detached. She wanted to take control. I’d let her. She could coax me into a stall and demand I lift her dress. I’d welcome it. I’d push her knickers aside, tug her leg over my shoulder, and press my face between her thighs. I’d groan when her rough hand threaded in my hair as she ground her hips against my face. Fuck yes. I’d crawl across a festering truck stop for that.
Hell, I’d beg Eden simply for a smile.
Her attention.
Anything.
Acid leached in my gut. My hand fell from her ankle.
This persona of Eden—the Ice Queen—had never been about sex. She flipped the switch when the balance of power shifted between us in those moments when she’d been thrown out of the pilot’s seat and was still flailing midair, not quite on the ground, not sure how to land.
I’d never shown her. And that was my job.
I’d forgotten her so many times she felt like she needed to beg for my smile, my attention, my anything . The realisation punched me in the gut.
I lifted my gaze, and when our eyes met, I hoped she saw mine weren’t filled with lust. Only regret. True remorse.
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t intend to whisper, but the shame curling around my throat wouldn’t let me speak any louder. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see you. I prioritised my work. I didn’t listen and brushed you off with too many promises I didn’t keep. I convinced myself it’d all be fine because I’d be someone you looked up to…who provided for you…” I laughed at how blind I’d been. “But that’s never what you wanted from me, is it?”
Eden shook her head.
“You just wanted me to be there for you? Notice you? Make you my number one?”
She nodded.
“I can do that. I’ll prove to you I can. Please, give me another chance.”
“I’ve already given you another chance.”
“A final chance.”
Her fingers toyed with the fluffy frills of her dress. “I…can’t.”
“I was yours the first day I saw you, Denny Dee. I’ll wait until you can.”
She snorted. “You’ll be waiting forever.”
“Okay.”
Just like that. Easy as pie. What was the point of life without Eden in it? I’d read enough books to know nothing good ever came from turning your back on the woman you loved. You’d be miserable alone, sure, but you’d go mad trying to replace something priceless with anything—or anyone—else.
She folded her arms. “As if.”
“Try me.”
“Zach, be serious.”
“I’m on my knees in a club I vowed never to step foot inside. It doesn’t get more serious than that. You’re it for me, Denny Dee. It’s you or no one. If you want to parade me around for everyone to laugh at, do it. I’ve got nothing to lose. If you’re not by my side, I’ve already lost everything.”
“I’m just not—” She puffed out a breath. “I can’t waste anymore of my life wondering when you’ll come home…who you’re with…”
“Let’s take it back a few steps,” I said. “I’m not asking you to move back into my place or take me back. I want that, but I won’t push for it. Right now, all I’m asking for is the chance to prove to you I see you. I just want to be a part of your life. Any way you feel comfortable. No matter how small.”
She was shy when she quietly said, “Messages.”
My heart leapt out of my chest. “You’re okay with messages?” A small step was still something .
“Just the goodnight messages.”
I grinned. “I’ve been sending those for weeks. If you keep me unblocked, you’ll keep getting them.”
Eden dipped her chin.
I pushed my luck a little more. “How about the occasional cute cat meme, too?”
She giggled, exaggerating an eye roll. “I suppose we can stretch the new rule for cute cats.”
My gaze found its favourite safety net on the floor, but my cheeks burned, unused to stretching from such a wide smile. I ghosted a touch to Eden’s ankle.
Messages.
It was a start, and any small step was better than it being the end.